In the End
by liebedance
Summary: A story in three parts. At three different turning points, the words "it will be okay" were uttered. Two times it was a lie. One time it wasn't. James/Lily, Remus/Tonks, Harry/Ginny
1. It will be okay in the end

Written for Harry Potter Canon Fest at LiveJournal.

Chapter I features James/Lily. Chapter II features Remus/Tonks. Chapter III features Harry/Ginny

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><p><strong>(i)<strong>

_It will be okay in the end..._

James Potter hates being afraid. Hates it more than he hated studying for exams, more than he hates cleaning the bathroom, and possibly even more than he hates Severus Snape. He's devoted much energy over the years to conquering his fears. Now, he likes to think that he's above them, that they aren't worth his time.

It's not as though James is a stranger to the feeling of fear. He's been in danger often enough. Hell, he's even been within seconds of his life on numerous occasions. The racing heart and paralyzing grip are familiar to him. He knows what it's like to be so afraid that he can hardly think, or even breathe.

But each of those times, there was always a lighter undertone. Always the promise that there would be laughter later, celebration. Fear could be ignored, pushed to the back of the mind and out of the way. And so, even in the face of danger, James Potter was never really_afraid_.

He's seen werewolves transform, dodged deadly curses in battle, and ran from Filch more times than he ever wanted to. But nothing –_none of it_– compares to the complete and utter panic that overwhelms him now. There's no prospect of laughter or celebration – only cold terror and blind panic. And there's nothing he can do to stop it.

The Fidelius Charm is James' last resort. _His family's_last resort. Nothing else has worked; the Death Eaters keep finding them. Everything rides on Sirius' idea to use Peter.

Really, James would rather be the Secret Keeper himself. He feels so _cowardly_ pawning off the duty to his friends. _He_should be the one risking his life for Lily and Harry. But if he were to be the Secret Keeper, he would not be protected, and so Lily had adamantly refused.

It's not that he doesn't trust his friends. He does. He trusts Sirius as surely as he loves Lily. And he  
>trusts Peter, too. Maybe not as fiercely as he trusts Sirius – the man who is more an extension of James than merely a friend – but with a calmer certainty. Peter has never given James any reason to doubt him.<p>

But James' fear isn't rooted in doubt and impure trust. If it were, then he would be able to _do something_ about it. He could change Secret Keeper, take Dumbledore up on his offer – something that would ensure his family's safety beyond the doubt of _anyone_.

And so, here he is now, holding Harry tightly against his chest. Sirius stands by the couch at the far end of the room, arms crossed and staring intently as Lily moves her wand in intricate patterns over herself, Harry, James, and Peter. She's doing her part in keeping them safe – casting the Fidelius Charm. They could've had Dumbledore do it, but then he would know they chose Peter. And secrecy is pivotal to the plan. Besides, there's nobody that James would rather have cast the charm than Lily.

As he feels the warm rippling of the charm transfer responsibility for the Potter family to Peter, James is overwhelmed by the sense of helplessness. The warmth of the charm does nothing to melt the frozen feeling in his chest and stomach. James squeezes Harry closer, even though the he is squirming to get away.

"It's okay, Harry," James whispers into the child's black mess of hair, trying to calm both his son and himself. "Shh... it will be over soon."

When Harry stops squirming and looks up at James with his big, green eyes, so trusting even though he doesn't – _can't_– understand what's happening, James wants to cry. Because none of this is fair.

Later that night, after Sirius and Peter have left, James and Lily sit on the couch in the living room in front of the fire. Harry is sleeping in Lily's arms, peaceful as ever, and James wants to pretend that this is a happier night at a happier time.

"James?" Lily's whisper cuts through the heavy silence.

"Yes, love?" James replies, trying to keep his voice steady.

"What happens if-"

"Don't," James interrupts her. He doesn't want her to say it, doesn't want to _hear_her say it. They've done all they can. He knows it, and he knows she knows it. And there's nothing left to do but wait.

"It will be okay," James says, echoing the words he spoke Harry just hours earlier. And even if he doesn't quite believe it, even if they are empty words to offer empty assurances, her small nod reassures him.

Lily exhales slowly as she leans into James and repeats back to him, "It will be okay."

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><p>Thoughts?<p> 


	2. If it's not okay

Part II: Remus/Tonks. Written for Harry Potter Canon Fest on LiveJournal

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><p><strong>(ii)<strong>

_...if it's not okay..._

Nymphadora Tonks hates being patronised. Being clumsy and slightly shorter than average does _not_ mean that she's a small child. It means that she's a slightly short, clumsy _adult_. Having bubble-gum pink hair doesn't mean she's a rebellious _youth_. She just happens to like pink more than the mousy-brown she inherited from her father. Yet people have always patronised her. But she never expected it from _him_. Not from her husband, and certainly not _now_.

"You're being ridiculous, Remus," Tonks says for what feels like the tenth time in so many minutes. The argument they're having now has been going on ever since Remus received the message that Harry had arrived at Hogwarts. He'd wanted to set off immediately – would have, Tonks thinks, if it wasn't for her. She'd wanted to go with him, and he'd refused. And this argument had started.

"It's not ridiculous to want my child to grow up with his mother," Remus counters from where he stands by the kitchen door.

"But it's okay for Teddy to grow up without his father?"

"If his father is like me, it may even be better," Remus spits out.

Tonks sighs and runs her hand across her forehead in frustration. _This_ argument isn't new. In fact, it feels like they have it several times a month. It was the argument that prevented Remus from entering into this relationship in the first place, that had caused Remus' hesitancy in their engagement, and that pushed Remus to run away when they'd learned of Teddy's conception. And, it's an argument that Tonks finds absolutely daft. It doesn't _matter_ that he is a werewolf. It _never_mattered – not to her, at any rate – and it never will. She knows that he is an excellent partner, lover, and father. And, perhaps in time, he'll come to know this as well.

But now is not the time for debating Remus' inferiority complex and his ability to father Teddy. Now is the time for action, to be apparating to the Hogshead and going to Hogwarts. For Merlin's sake, it's life and death and the war against Voldemort. As much as she cares, Tonks just doesn't have _time_right now to wage a war against Remus' doubts as well.

"This is ridiculous," Tonks repeats, crossing the kitchen so that she's standing between Remus and the door.

"Please, don't fight me on this."

"You have a responsibility to Teddy."

"I'm an Auror, Remus," Tonks says, unable to keep the pleading tone from her voice. She hates pleading, but at this point, she doesn't know what else to do. "I have a responsibility to the wizarding world. They need me."

"You're too young to die, Dora," Remus says quietly, taking one of her hands in his own. He lifts his other hand to her face, running his thumb along her cheek, and Tonks sighs. It's so easy to let him do this, to let him calm her down when she knows she should be fighting. And it's almost enough to make her give in.

"I'm older than you were during the First War," Tonks manages, pulling slightly away from him in an attempt to clear her head. "And, I'm better trained. I was one of the best in the Academy, and Mad Eye's favourite. This is my _job_, Remus."

"You don't know what-"

"I don't know?" Tonks interrupts him, feeling the irritation rise in her again. Because, as wonderful as it is when Remus sooths her, it's equally infuriating when he acts as though she isn't a fully qualified witch. "I don't know battle? I don't know what it's like to see people die, see your friends die? What do you think I did as an Auror, play chess? I may be younger than you, but I'm _not_a child."

"I don't want to lose you, Dora," Remus says so quietly that Tonks can barely hear him. "I've lost too many people, and I don't want to lose you, too."

Again his words calm her, but not so much as to strip her of her innate stubbornness. With a hollow sort-of laugh, Tonks lets her head fall against Remus' chest. When he wraps his arms around her, she leans into his embrace as she gathers strength for what she's going to do next.

"You are going to lose me," Tonks whispers into his cloak after a long moment. "Everybody loses everybody, eventually. Maybe it will be tonight, maybe it will be in fifty years, but it will happen, some day. Everything ends." She pulls back so that she's looking him in the eyes before continuing, "But if you're going to lose me, and if I'm going to lose you, then we should lose each other doing something important. I don't want to sit here and pretend everything is okay when I know it's not. I can't pretend, Remus."

"Then don't pretend," Remus replies. "Trust me when I say that I'll come back to you."

"It's not you I don't trust," Tonks says, taking a step back and looking intently into Remus' eyes. Now is the time to use the strength she's managed to muster. Tonks nods slightly, and forces the next words out before she has time to rethink them. "If you must go, you must. Just go, now. Before I change my mind. I'll go check on Teddy. Make sure we didn't wake him."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

And then he's out the door, and Tonks can hear the _crack_ of his disapparating. Remus is gone. Tonks isn't naive enough to believe that he'll come back or that that he'll even be _able_ to come back. She hates that one of the last things she'll have said to him was a lie – that she's not going to stay home with Teddy. But she _has_to go and fight.

She moves as quickly and quietly as her clumsiness will allow to the room where her son sleeps and begins stuffing clothes into a rucksack. When she's done packing – and it doesn't take long – she makes her way over to Teddy's cot. The small child is still sleeping, no indication that the fight or his mother's movement has disturbed him at all. He's always been a heavy sleeper, especially for a baby.

"C'mon, Teddy," she says, lifting him – blanket and all – into her arms and heading into the small living room. "We're going to Grandma's. Mommy and Daddy have to go fight, make the world a safer place for you."  
>Teddy doesn't wake – just snuggles deeper into his mother's arms – as she grabs a fistful of powder and throws it into the fireplace. He barely stirs as she steps into the green flames. And it's only when she steps out of the fireplace at Andromeda Tonks' house that he opens his eyes.<p>

"Mommy and Daddy love you very much, Teddy," she says as Andromeda hurries into the living room to see who has arrived. But, Tonks ignores her mother's presence, wanting to savour this moment with her baby son. Inexplicably, she knows this will be the last time she sees him. She knows that she, like Remus, will not be able to return, no matter how much she wants to.

"You'll stay here with Grandma. Be a good boy for her. Everything will be okay."

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><p>Thoughts? Good things? Bad things?<p> 


	3. Then it's not the end

The final instalment of _In the End_, written for Harry Potter Canon Fest on LiveJournal. This chapter features Harry/Ginny.

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><p><strong>(iii)<strong>

_...then it's not the end._

Ginny Weasley hates being left behind. She feels like she should be used to it by now given the number of times she's been left behind in her life. Left behind by her brothers when they went to Hogwarts. Left behind by her family when they all stayed to tell Harry about the Order. Left behind by Harry, Ron, and Hermione when they went on their mission for Dumbledore. And, worst of all, left behind in the Room of Requirement at the start of the battle.

But, now, all that should be over. Voldemort is gone. Harry is no longer in hiding. She knows more about the Order than she wants to. She's eighteen and graduated from Hogwarts. She's back at the Burrow with her Mum and Dad and Ron and Harry. There's the normal bustle of friends and family, and the wound from Fred's death is starting to heal. She and Harry are, somehow, miraculously, back to where they'd been two years previously. So, everything _should_be okay.

But it's not. And, if Ginny's honest with herself, she should have realised this would happen the moment Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up in the kitchen fire, asking for a private word with Harry. She should've expected that it would lead to _this_- the conversation she and Harry are having right now. But she didn't, and now she feels like a complete fool for ever getting her hopes up in the first place.

"It's not like I really have a choice," Harry is saying as Ginny forces herself to ignore the twisting in her stomach and focus instead on his words.

They're standing in the meadow just out of sight of the house. Ginny remembers playing Quidditch here a couple summers ago and wishes that things could be as simple now as they were then. But this whole thing – this relationship, this romance, this whatever-you-want-to-call-it – with Harry just mucks everything up in Ginny's mind until she doesn't know which way is forward and things always seem to be going backwards.

"I mean, I kind of have to, you know, help," he says, and the ensuing silence pulls Ginny from her thoughts. She realises that she hasn't really been paying attention to what Harry's been saying, but she doesn't need to. Not when they're talking about the Ministry and the Death Eaters and Harry's Duty. She's heard all this before. Several times.

"You don't have to," Ginny answers. And she means it, but it feels so _rehearsed_.

"It's my res-"

"It is not your responsibility! You're not an Auror," Ginny argues back. "Harry, you're not even the Chosen One anymore."

"To the rest of the world I am," Harry replies with a sigh. "And, Kingsley's new Ministry, well, I have to support it. Because, for once, they're doing something _right_."

"So, you're going to be the Ministry's face? What are they going to have you do?" Ginny demands. And, for the first time, the argument feels fresh. Because, though they've discussed Harry leaving to help the Aurors, this is the first time it's been a plausible option. It's the first time they've asked since Harry finished making up his seventh year.

"Kinsley mentioned going abroad to follow a lead they have. He was kind of vague about the whole thing. Said I'd get more information when - _if_– I decide to help," Harry explains quietly as he looks out over the meadow, and Ginny has the distinct feeling that he's avoiding her gaze.

"You're going to tell him yes, aren't you," Ginny asks, though she knows the answer. She refuses to pretend, refuses to believe that Harry has the spine to say 'no' to people who supported him during the war. She knows that he feels like he owes it to them for being decent people. He did it for Dumbledore, and now he's doing it for Kingsley. Though, she knows that _he'd_say he's doing it for them all.

"I kind of have to," Harry replies.

"You don't have to," Ginny counters. "It's not fair of them to ask you, Harry. You've done your bit."

"Killing Voldemort doesn't give me a pass on doing the right thing!" Harry snaps, rounding on Ginny as though she's said something incredibly offensive.

"Of course it doesn't," Ginny agrees. But she's not done. She's kept quiet before this, and now she _has_ to spit the rest out. She has to make him listen to sense. "But what do they think you can actually do for them? You haven't been trained. You're just out of school! You know and I know that with Voldemort it was different – you were _connected_. But you don't have that advantage with normal Death Eaters. It's not _fair_of them to ask you to go. Aren't you sick of following vague hints for other people? Aren't you ready to just live your own life?"

"You have no idea," Harry says, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Besides," Ginny continues, "Do you even know how long you'll be gone? Will you be in contact with us? I'm guessing no. And, what, you want me to sit here and wait around for you to come home again? _If_you come home? After everything, you're going to put me through that again?"

"I will come home, Ginny," Harry says, turning so that he's facing her completely.

"You can't know that for sure," Ginny whispers, staring into his eyes, almost pleading. And, damn it, she feels like she's going to cry, and she doesn't _want_ to cry. She doesn't want Harry to placate her, she wants him to _hear_ her and _listen to_ her. "I know I'm being selfish. But I don't care. One of us has to be, and you're just going to go on being so damn noble, just like always. Because, it's not the waiting that I mind. I mean, I _hate_the waiting, but I've waited all my life, and I'll wait again because, for me, it's always been you, Harry. But it's not fair. Not to you, not to me, not to us."

Ginny falls silent. There's nothing left for her to say. She just continues to stare into Harry's eyes, searching for something, for an answer. But he's not saying anything either, just staring back at her. And she feels like he's searching, too.

"Okay," he says after a long while.

"Okay?" Ginny asks, hardly daring to believe what she just heard, hardly daring to think about what that one word might mean.

"I'll stay," he answers, fixing his gaze on hers. "I'll fire-call Kingsley tonight, tell him I'm not going. You're right, Gin . They don't need me, not really. I can be the face of the Ministry from here, with you."

"And you're not going to beat yourself up about this?" Ginny asks. She can feel the tears pressing on the backs of her eyes again, but this time they aren't of despair, but of relief.

"No. I won't." Harry pulls Ginny close to him, and Ginny leans into the embrace. Finally – _finally_– everything feels completely right. As she clings to the boy who has always been her everything, she can hear him whisper into her hair.

"It will be okay."

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><p>Thoughts? Opinions?<p> 


End file.
